


The Sacrifice of Ygraine Pendragon

by Penbirdy



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penbirdy/pseuds/Penbirdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a run for Gaius, Merlin is visited by Ygraine and she comes bearing a gift for him and her son. A gift that comes at a great cost to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sacrifice of Ygraine Pendragon

Merlin was supposed to be back at the castle by noon. Gaius has asked him to take a mare and leave for the meadow in the eastern wood to gather Lumnus flowers for a poultice, since a handful of knights had gone hunting and one came back with a particularly nasty rash. It had been mid morning when Merlin had left to collect the Lumnus flowers. However, by now noon had passed and it was steadily getting closer to dusk. Somewhere between Camelot and the border of the wood, dark clouds gathered. On his way back a thick mist had began to creep through the forest. He had thought he and his mare would be able to navigate through the woods and be back in Camelot in mere hours, but instead he ended up here: a path between the wood and the waist tall elder bush that signalled the outskirts of Camelot.

  
Merlin thought Camelot and the surrounding woods would be mapped out in his mind by now. From all the hunts he'd gone on with Arthur, gathering herbs and flowers for Gaius, and his own little trips to ease his mind and play around with his magic, there was very little of these lands he did not know. Merlin looked up at the dark clouds overhead. They seemed out of place due to the air around him, which didn’t feel cool and damp at his nose, as it should be. Instead it felt warm, his skin prickling as if the rays of sun were caressing his skin. Still, a shiver ran through him as an ominous feeling settled in his chest. Everything was still... too still. There wasn’t even a breeze. It was so still not even the tall grass swayed. It was as if time was frozen around him while the tempest swirled above.

 

Merlin knew his power. He knew his strength. He wasn’t a defenceless fool like Arthur thought. If this was some silly trick by another sorcerer, he was strong enough to defend himself. But Merlin sensed no magic around. It didn’t speak to him like it usually did when near; like an echo of a whisper, faint in the back of his mind, mingling with the constant buzz of his own magic that never left him.

  
The path was cut off at both ends by the thick mist that had led him here. It had to have led him here, Merlin realized; ushering him where it needed him to be and keeping him there… although for what, Merlin wished he knew.

  
The silence became more unnerving as the seconds went by. Merlin heard thunder, but there was no lightning. As the roaring sound died down, Merlin’s magic peaked, as if warning, finally latching on to something in the air; a magic that was old, something wrapped thoroughly in the old religion; as if it _was_ the old religion, just like Merlin himself was magic. Merlin’s magic reached out into the mist, tugging at the entity as if impatient with its theatrics. Slowly, a figure was outlined in the shadows. Coming into the clearing, Merlin saw the figure to be a woman. She was hooded in a brilliant red cape, the tendrils of her golden hair flowing down disappearing into the mist that still lingered around the lower part of her body. As she came closer, the mist still clung to her well into the clearing. She was beautiful, Merlin noticed. Her face young but eyes old, knowing, and as blue as forget-me-nots. Her face was chiselled yet worn soft in the way only a lady could. At her lips, a tilted smile tugged subtly, her eyes looking at him with a mixture of wistfulness and inevitability.

“Finally, we meet,” she said, sighing lightly as if reaching a peace she had been searching for. “I have lingered here too long, waiting for this moment: to meet the man who would love my son a thousand lifetimes over.”

“You’re… you… no…” Merlin gulped, trying to find the words.

There was no pause in his mind to think about whom this woman was or who she was referring to. There was only one man Merlin loved, could love, a thousand lifetimes over.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, as if it was the answer to every unasked question he had.

“Yes,” said the woman. _Ygraine,_ Merlin’s mind supplied, _this was Ygraine._  
 _  
_

Ygraine Pendragon was a figure that lingered in Merlin’s curiosity for a long time. He instinctively had wanted to find out all there was to know about her: what did she look like? Did Arthur have any of her characteristics? And even more questions that had fluttered around his mind in his early days in Camelot. Yet he never really sought out those answers. Something in the sad tinge of Arthur’s eyes and the thin line of Uther’s mouth had made him stop. He couldn’t quite figure out if it was out of respect for Arthur or in fear of Uther. All he knew was that Ygraine Pendragon was a topic never discussed.

“But how?”

Merlin knew that magic was powerful enough to have the ability to play with life and death. But not without a price paid. So if Ygraine was standing in front of him and he was not, in fact, passed out somewhere having a very lucid dream, this was not without consequence.

“I am here to give you a gift; you and my son. There are many things in this world that are a mystery; death being the ultimate. Death cannot be bargained with; it hears no pleas, rises to no man’s anger. Its price for living is absolute. You will die, as we all do.”

 

  
“So,” Merlin said breathlessly, his mind swimming, overwhelmed by the presence before him. “You’re here to tell me I’m going to die?”

“When Arthur was born,” Ygraine continued, as if Merlin hadn’t said a thing, “I paid the ultimate price for his life … my own. It was a price I was willing to pay, and I would do it again if I had to. However, as absolute as death is in the world of man, it is not so in the spirit realm; the realm of rebirth.”

“Realm of rebirth?”

“Every living being has a soul, and when we die, that soul is reborn, a new life granted. However, we are never born to the same circumstances as before. Memories, idiosyncrasies, our loved ones, titles, do not follow us. When we are reborn, we are born anew. The circumstances and situations in that life will shape us again; create new habits, new tastes, new memories… everything.”

“Oh…” Merlin squeezed out.

‘‘I gave my life for my son once, and now I shall give up a thousand lives more. My son has a lot to accomplish in his life. And he will, with you by his side. He will be a great king, as he was born to be. Make Camelot a place where men are born free and not indentured to anyone because of station. Where magic will live once again with the people, dancing at their feet, bleeding out from the earth as it was meant to be. But there will be times when magic and free men will be challenged; when the world will need a boy born of magic and a boy who is magic.”  
   


“And, that’s me and Arthur?”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

 

Merlin inhaled a shaky breathe and mumbled “right” again, shutting his eyes so tight that when he opened them light danced across his vision. All he had had to do was get some flowers and be back in Camelot by noon to see to Arthur’s needs, yet here he was. He knew, being magic, and having a destiny intertwined with Arthur Pendragon, that he— _they_ , would draw trouble; a lot of trouble. But never did Merlin imagine that he’d be standing on a path surrounded by a thick mist and a lightening-less thunderstorm listening to Ygraine Pendragon tell him… tell him…

 

“Er… So, this gift, it’s a….”

“A chance.”

“A chance… right,” Merlin scratched at his head. If Arthur was here, he’d probably tell him to stop fidgeting and stop looking like a dunce. But Arthur wasn’t here.

“So, this gift, if it’s for me and Arthur, how come you’re only appearing to me?”

Ygraine turned her head to look at the mist surrounding her. Her face was pensive, and then a sad smile played at her mouth.

“I cannot see him. I do not think I can take leaving him twice. He is all that matters to me. I have not seen him since the night he came from me, screaming like he was ready to charge full force into the world.”

Merlin smiled, thinking of Arthur as a baby. He could just image the precocious brat ready to prove he can do anything.

“Sounds like Arthur alright.”

“There is so much he does not know, young warlock. So much that you will need to tell him.”

Merlin chuckled bitterly, “Trust me, I know.”

“The gift that I am giving to both of you, is life,” Ygraine said, her voice taking on a more sombre tone. “When you are reborn, you will be reborn anew, but deep inside you will exist as the people you are now; ready to be awakened when the world needs you or you need each other. In order to grant you this, my sacrifice is that I am never to be reborn.”

Merlin gasped and slowly edged closer towards Ygraine, the mist rolling out around her like a shield preventing his approach any further.

“You can’t do that, your highness! What will become of you? Are you just going to wander these woods for all eternity?”

Merlin was furious. Ygraine had already made enough sacrifices for Arthur, gods knew that Merlin got the appeal, but this was too much.

“I do what I must, young warlock. I chose this path a long time ago. I saw it, before Uther, before Nimueh. I knew that I would be called on to make these sacrifices for my son… and even for you. You two are the assembling of old and new; the joining of magic and men. In Arthur lies the power to change the hearts and minds of men; in you; the power to maintain that change by his side. Together, you are one. This is why I sacrifice my rebirth, and I will do so as many times as will be necessary.”

Merlin fought to control his breathing, inhaling ragged breaths while he turned what Ygraine had said over and over again in his head.

__

_Me and Arthur… forever._

The thought was so overwhelming that Merlin fought to stand upright and not fall on buckling knees. The Gods knew he loved Arthur. Loved him with a ferocity that scared even him. As their relationship stood now, they both knew they were on the precipice of something. Touches had begun to linger. Arthur’s usual scolding had taken on a softer, fonder tone. Merlin would not be surprised if by the end of the month he would not only warm Arthur’s room but also his bed.

“Know this, though, young warlock. If you die in this life with tasks left unfinished, it will repeat itself until time becomes a hazy dream of a former life. You must live a full life now, so that when you are reborn, the cycle is complete. You and my son must fulfil your destiny, or else the world will forever rest on the precipice of absolute turmoil.”

“That simple, is it?” Merlin said, letting out an airy chuckle.

Ygraine tilted her head to the side, looking at him bemused. The mist that was around her began to thicken again, reaching out to join the wall that blocked the path.

“It is time for me to leave. It calls me back.”

“What is ‘it’?”

“Everything. Time, space, death, life. It is everything.”

“Where will you go if you are not to be reborn?”

“I shall linger in the in-between. Forever in the mist.”

“That’s not fair.”

“There are a lot of things in life that are not fair. If you and Arthur fail, unfair will be the standard of living.  
So you must not fail, young warlock.”

The wall of mist that lingered behind Ygraine was closing in on her. Wind returned to the path and the lightning-less thunder began to roll again.

“Take care of him,” was the last thing she said, before she was absorbed by the solid white of the mist. The sky above rumbled and the wind roared around him.

“I will!” Merlin yelled into the storm as the woman who gave him the man he loved disappeared into limbo.

"Forever." 

 

 

 

_fin_


End file.
